


pick up my pieces (and glue me back together)

by resonae



Series: glue me back together [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Choking, Double Penetration, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape, Sexual Violence, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not many people know the real reason Scott Hansen was dismissed from the PPDC. Only a few know that he raped his 14-year-old nephew for 6 months. The story of Chuck's fall through the abuse, Herc's struggle to put his son back together, and Raleigh's fight to heal the scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chuck hansen

There’s blood.

 

There’s blood everywhere. Chuck tries to make a grab for the edge of the sink, but he misses and his legs give way. His head hits the door knob on the way, but his head’s already throbbing, and the impact doesn’t make the pain go away.

 

He tries to get up, tries to make it to the shower, or the toilet, or both, but he fails, and he retches onto the floor. Nothing comes up except bile and saliva, and he sobs, trying to get his legs to work. The door suddenly clicks open and he tries to get away, but a rough hand grabs the back of his neck. “Little shit,” the owner of the hand says. “Look what you did.”

 

“D-don’t touch me. Don’t- don’t-“ Chuck doesn’t manage a full sentence, just tries to flail away, but pain shoots up his spine and he whimpers instead. “Please don’t touch me, Uncle Scott. Please.”

 

His uncle – his father’s _brother_ – doesn’t stop touching him. He shoves a pile of toilet paper onto the mess on the floor and easily picks Chuck up and drops him in the tub. There’s blood, blood from Chuck’s thighs, from the places Scott’s belt buckle tore into his skin, and Chuck tries to reach the faucet, but can’t.

 

Suddenly there’s a rustle of clothes, and Chuck looks up. He chokes, and sobs, “No, no, Uncle Scott, please, no, no more-“

 

“Shut up, you fucking piece of shit,” Scott snarls, backhanding Chuck’s face. The ring on his finger leaves a deep scratch across Chuck’s cheek, and Chuck cries out, his hands cradling the abused cheek. He tries to struggle against Scott coming into the tub, but he can’t. Scott turns on the water, adjusts it to the perfect temperature, but it’s only a temporary relief.

 

Scott yanks Chuck up onto his trembling knees, shoves him forward over the edge of the tub. Chuck tries begging, tries struggling, but rough hands are already pulling him open, thick fingers pulling the already abused pucker wide, and Scott thrusts his cock into Chuck, making him scream and cry and choke on his own vomit.

 

At the end of the shower, Chuck can’t move. “You gonna tell your old man on me?” Scott says, smoking a cigarette. Chuck hates the smell of cigarettes. “You think that’ll work?” Chuck blinks slowly, trying to understand. “You seduced me, yeah?” _No_. “Went around flaunting that tight piece of ass.” _No_. “You think Herc’ll really believe you over me?

 

Chuck stiffens. “He’s gonna believe you, the little troublemaker who can never get enough attention, over me, his loyal brother?” Chuck starts to tremble, and Scott’s fingers work their way back into his body. He tries to move away, but his body has no strength left. “Let’s say he believes you. You think he’s gonna care? Because he’s cared for so long, right?”

 

Chuck thinks of the way his father is, always leaving him behind as he saves the world, always in some sort of war machine. He can’t remember a gentle hand, or a proud smile, or – or anything. He whimpers as Scott sinks into him again, but no one hears him beg for help.

 

Chuck is 14.

 

\--

 

_“Chuck, what the fuck happened?”_

_“I fell down a staircase.”_

_“You- Chuck, did you get into a fight?”_

_“I fell down a staircase!”_

\--

 

Chuck may not be one of the physically strongest in the entire Academy, but he’s definitely the best at fighting. Still, he’s no match for the strength of a grown-up man, especially not one as muscular as Scott is. He learns that his best defense is to stay still and take whatever Scott lashes on him.

 

The abuse gets worse and worse each time, the sex getting increasingly more and more violent. Chuck has bruises from where Scott tightened a belt around his neck and pulled on it, and his wrists are chafed and rubbed raw from the times Scott ties his wrists. Even now, his shoulders are straining, twisted backward and up as he hangs from the ceiling. His knees are kept wide open, tied to a spreader bar, and he’s blindfolded and gagged.

 

He’s glad for the gag. He can’t breathe properly and his head is already starting to swim, and he’s hoping he’ll faint soon so he won’t have to deal with the rest of it. The door creaks open and Chuck stiffens, his legs flexing as they fight to keep the weight from off his shoulders, but the voice he hears makes him freeze. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

 

It sounds like his father. He stays silent, stays still, straining to hear the voice again. Another voice talks – that’s Scott, Chuck can tell his voice apart in a crowd – and says, “He’s a pretty little whore, isn’t he?”

 

“Shit, never imagined he’d be like this.” But it _can’t be_. His brain is running, his heart hammering in his ears. It sounds so familiar, so much like his father, but it can’t be, his father wouldn’t, wouldn’t, wouldn’t-

 

His scream comes out as a choke instead as he’s split open. He can’t even tell who it is, lost in his own despair. His head is spinning from the lack of oxygen and _can’t be can’t be can’t be_. There’s a cock rubbing at his stomach, leaving sticky trails of pre-cum all over his abdomen.

 

The cock violating him leaves him, but he barely gets a break as another one – or maybe the same one – takes its place. His legs are suddenly drawn up, and Chuck struggles for a moment before the leash around his neck is tightened and he’s left wheezing through his gag. “Tightens up when you choke him,” Scott says, and the man laughs with his father’s voice, and even that’s identical.

 

And there’s a second cock shoving at his entrance. He tries to scream through the collar and his gag, but they’re relentless, and the head shoves inside. He can almost hear his skin tear as it pops inside and shoves in all the way, two cocks stabbing inside him. He wants to vomit but he hasn’t eaten anything solid in days, and he wretches emptily into the gag, shaking.

 

His mind blurs and the voices mix, one sounding so much like his father. _But he wouldn’t, wouldn’t, wouldn’t._

_..would he?_

\--

 

“ _Chuck, you need to go see a doctor. You’ve got a fev-“_

_“No! Just – just leave me alone. Where were you, anyway?”_

_“I was with Marshal Pentecost from Anchorage. I told you I would be, remember? I don’t understand why you won’t let me take you to a doctor. Chuck, please.”_

_“Stop! Don’t touch me. Just leave me alone.”_

\--

 

Chuck has been wearing turtleneck sweaters, never mind the fact that it’s summer. His dad’s clothes are long enough to cover all of his bruises and cuts. He can’t remember the last time he was able to eat something and not throw it back up, and he no longer has the energy to even make noise when Scott stubs out his cigarette onto Chuck’s shoulder. “You know, you tighten up so hard when you’re in pain.” Scott snickers, lighting another cigarette. He inhales deeply and blows the smoke out onto Chuck’s face, making Chuck whimper weakly. He tries to move, but his ankles are tied to either side of the bed. He “Herc’s a dumbass shit. Can’t even tell what’s wrong with his son, and it’s been what, three months now?” Scott rubs the cigarette onto his shoulder again, lights it again, takes another smoke, rubs it out again, until both of Chuck’s shoulders throb violently. “Or maybe he really just doesn’t give a shit about you.”

 

He shifts, and his cock moves inside Chuck, making Chuck whimper again. “You’re a loose slut now, huh. Look, won’t even close up if I pull out.”

 

Chuck’s breath hitches as Scott pulls himself out, leaving his insides open to cold air. Scott sinks back in, and his hand is on the collar around Chuck’s neck again. He tightens it two notches, crushing Chuck’s airway until he’s gasping and wheezing for breath. “There we go. Tight.” Chuck’s sight is dotted black as he fights to gain breath back into his lungs, but his uncle keeps ramming into him until his entire body gives way.

 

He’s glad to be passing out, but suddenly the buckle loosens and he instinctively sucks in a breath, shooting pain from his hips straight up and making him cry out. “I don’t want you to pass out today.” Scott chuckles. “It’s only so fun to fuck a fainted kid.”

 

Chuck tries to scramble for purchase on the sheets, but Scott just rams straight into him, making him crash into the headboard. He’s so exhausted that he can’t even cry out properly, and when Scott comes with a guttural groan, Chuck sobs quietly. Scott pulls out, and there’s another strike of the match. Chuck braces himself for another cigarette burn, but instead hot wax drips onto his ass, and he flinches. “Birthday candles.” Scott smiles, sending chills down Chuck’s spine. “You know, you’re supposed to get the low-heat ones or something, for this. But I figure, you’re a big boy. You can handle the heat.” Scott’s holding a thick candle in his hand.

 

Chuck hasn’t even realized it was his birthday. Scott pushes a candle into him, and Chuck tries to squirm away, but Scott grabs him, lighting the candle. Chuck quivers, frozen. “Move, make it fall out, or whatever, and you’re gonna be tied to a burning bed.” Another drip of hot wax drops onto him from the one Scott’s holding. “Fifteenth birthday means fifteen candles, right, kiddo?”

 

Chuck spends his 15th birthday tied to a bed, with his own uncle dripping hot wax all over his body.

 

\--

 

_“I didn’t even grab you that hard. Chuck, you’ve been losing a lot of weight, and I haven’t seen you eat. We need to get you to a doctor.”_

_“It was my birthday, yesterday.”_

_“What?”_

_“My birthday. My fifteenth birthday.”_

_“That- that can’t be. I swear I marked it on my calendar. The 14 th is-“_

_“Was yesterday.”_

_“Jesus. Chuck, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy lately, you know that. Listen, I’ll take you out to dinner, yeah? I’ve got a meeting with Stacker, but I’ll tell him what’s up, and I can cancel. Where’d you like to-“_

_“No, just – just leave me alone.”_

\--

 

“So, Chuckie, turns our your daddy and me? We’re Drift compatible.” Scott snickers. “Getting into our first Jaegar later today.”

 

Scott pushes the vibrator deeper into him, and Chuck’s body buckles with the smallest pressure. His body’s limp, devoid of any kind of struggle he used to have. “Broken, huh.” Scott snorts, flicking Chuck’s lips. Chuck doesn’t respond. “Well, lasted longer than I would’ve thought.”

 

Chuck’s eyes are unfocused, tears leaking onto the sheets. He whimpers when Scott seats into him, but does nothing else. Scott flips open his army knife, and wrenches Chuck’s thigh open. He sinks the blade into the soft flesh there, and Chuck whimpers, his body tightening around Scott’s cock, but he doesn’t struggle. “Aw, Chuck. That’s no fun, eh?” Scott finishes curving out the letters. “How long do you think your dad will take to notice you just aren’t around anymore?”

 

“D-daddy..” Chuck whimpers in response.

 

Scott stops, and barks out a laugh. “What, you miss your daddy?”

 

“Daddy, help me…”

 

Scott wraps the collar down three notches, making Chuck rasp for breath. “Sorry, kiddo. Your daddy’s too busy trying to save the world to save his own son.” Scott snickers, pulls out, and slides the vibrator back into Chuck. He carries Chuck to the bathroom, deposits him into the tub, and starts filling it with cold water. “I’ll take care of you when I’m back.”

 

\--

 

_A small child cries, his baby-fat chubby arms waving. He can’t be more than five years old. “Daddy!” He shrieks, tears flowing down his face. “Daddy, help me!”_

_A man picks his son up. “Chuck, what’s wrong, kid?” His voice is soft as he rubs his son’s cheeks. “Hey, hey, baby, tell me what’s wrong.” The child points down to the mud in a nearby ditch, where a small red shoe is stuck. He bawls again, and the father laughs, planting a kiss onto his son’s forehead. “Now, how’d that get there?”_

_The child pauses his crying to say, “I was playing kickball and it flew off.” He starts to sniffle, so his father squeezes his nose, tickles his sides until he’s giggling. “Stop it, daddy!” The child tries, but he bursts into fits of giggles again. “That was my favorite shoe.”_

_“I bought you those shoes for your birthday.”_

_“Exactly!” The child looks like he’s gonna cry again._

_“Listen, you wait here. I’ll go get it for you.”_

_“But – but mommy said there are spiders and snakes down there and that we shouldn’t go down there!”_

_“Well, we can’t have you go home with just one shoe, can we?” The father laughs. “Trust me, kid. The snakes are gonna be sorry if they try to get in my way when I go down there.” He puts his son down, and they walk to the edge of the ditch together. The child watches, apprehensively, squeezing his father’s hand as he makes his way down. “Gotta let go of me, Chuck, so I can go get it.”_

_The child lets go, reluctantly, but holds his breath while his father stomps across the mud to retrieve his shoe. He only lets his breath out when his father’s back, one muddy red shoe in his hand, and he squeals in delight as his father swoops him up again, rubbing his stubbled cheek to his own. The child shrieks, laughing happily. “Daddy, you’re the best in the whole entire world.”_

_The father laughs, ruffling his son’s hair. “For just one shoe?”_

_“No, because you’re my daddy!”_

\--

 

It’s cold, and Chuck can’t move.

 

_Dad, help me.._


	2. hercules hansen

“You seen Chuck?” Herc asks Scott when Scott comes in, smoking a cigarette. “Suit up, already.”

 

“Has anyone seen Chuck?” Scott snickers. “He’s a teenage boy, leave him be.” Herc watches Scott step into the suit, watches the bright silver suits lock in. “You ready for this?”

 

Herc pushes Chuck to the back of his mind, promising himself to check on Chuck after this test Drift. Their Marshal checks around. “Rangers, you ready?”

 

“Born ready,” Scott growls. “Let’s do this.”

 

They’re dropped down into Lucky Seven, and Herc closes his eyes. The Drift is silence, he tells himself. No latching onto memories. The J-Tech Chief LOCCENT Officer’s voice is soft. [You guys ready? Initiating neural handshake in 10, 9…]

 

Silence. Then it’s a rush, but Herc lets himself float along it. Their childhood memories are similar, and his memories of Angela mix with Scott’s one-nighters, and he lets it go.

 

 _Daddy_.

 

Herc flinches. _What?_

 

_Daddy, help me!_

 

Herc stops in the flow, looks wildly around. _Chuck!_ He tries to reach out, but a rush of memories wash over him. _Chuck!_

 

 _Stay the fuck out of my memories, Herc!_ That’s Scott, but Herc slaps his grip away. _Get the fuck out!_

_What are you hiding from me?!_ Herc yells. _That’s my son_! He struggles along the wave of memories, breaking through, and suddenly he’s standing in a familiar room. It’s Scott’s room, he realizes. Scott’s in the bed, grunting as he fucks into someone. There’s blood all over the sheets, and whoever Scott has under him is crying, screaming, begging for him to stop. Herc rounds the bed, trying to get a better look at who Scott’s assaulting, and his heart stops.

 

It’s his own son, tied and beat, Scott’s hands squeezing around his throat. Herc roars as he dives at his brother, but he ends up in another memory, this time of Chuck hanging from the ceiling, two men violating him from the back and one shoved into his throat. Then another. Then another, then another, then another.

 

Herc comes out of the Drift, wrenching his arm free of the clasps, diving at his brother. “I _trusted you with my son_ ,” Herc roars, ramming his fists again, and again into the other man. Scott doesn’t go down easy, throws his own punches and kicks between Herc’s legs, but Herc can’t even feel the pain. The J-Tech Chief LOCCENT Officer’s yelling in their ears, followed by their Marshal, but Herc doesn’t care. “YOU RAPED YOUR OWN NEPHEW!”

 

The two go silent, and Herc dives at Scott again. Scott’s snarls, “Yeah, and you were so much better.” Herc freezes. “Six months, and you didn’t even realize what was happening to your son. You were so wrapped up in being a fucking hero that-“ Herc punches Scott in the face before he’s yanked back by two pairs of hands. He struggles and yells at them, even as they undo the suit from his body.

 

The Marshal steps in between them before Herc can dive again, and says, “Ranger Hansen, _where is your son right now_?”

 

\--

 

Herc throws the door to Scott’s room open, and the thick smell of blood almost overpowers him until he remembers _that’s my son’s blood_ , and he runs into the bathroom. “Oh my God,” someone says, behind him.

 

Another says, “We need medical here right now!”

 

Herc sinks to his knees in front of the tub. The water’s a murky red, his son pale and blue-lipped inside it. He doesn’t think – he shoves his arms inside the bloody water and yanks Chuck out of it, revealing at first the collar drawn tightly around Chuck’s neck. He fumbles with it, one, twice, before he breaks the clasp open by yanking it apart.

 

Chuck’s not breathing, his head lolls sluggishly against Herc’s shoulders, and Herc lets out a broken wail, clutching Chuck to his chest. “Please, no, no, _no_.” He grips Chuck’s wrist, presses his ear to Chuck’s bruised, abused chest.

 

Chuck’s heart flutters weakly beneath the ribcages and Herc takes a moment to breathe. But then hands are trying to grab Chuck away and he strikes out, growling. “ _Don’t_ _touch my son_.”

 

One of the paramedics raises her hands in a defensive posture. “Ranger Hansen, your son needs medical attention immediately. We’re not going to hurt him. He’s going to die of hypothermia and blood loss if we don’t act now.” She speaks slowly, clearly, with the experience of someone used to panic.

 

Herc sobs as he loosens his grip on Chuck so they can get him onto a stretcher. “Please don’t take him away from me.”

 

\--

 

There’s a list of all of Chuck’s injuries, on a clipboard hanging nearby. The Marshal is telling him, _this can’t get out, Herc. The PPDC needs the public funding and support. If this managed to get out… Herc, it’s for the good of the world. We’ll dishonorably dismiss Scott, make sure he can’t get near you or your son again_.

 

Herc doesn’t care. He hasn’t even bothered with Chuck’s list of injuries. He doesn’t need some paper to tell him when he sees it himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, and he squeezes his eyes shut, grips Chuck’s hand in his palms and prays to a deity he never cared about before. Chuck’s lips are still blue, his skin still pale, his ribs still countable beneath his skin, and Herc wonders again if he’s allowed to call himself _father_.

 

He hadn’t even angry when he saw Scott again. He’d just stared, and looked on quietly as Scott hurtled insults at him. He gave his statement to the Marshal, which was then filed away, never to be seen again. People kept telling him _good for the PPDC, good for the world_. He wants to demand _what about what’s good for my son?_

 

Chuck hasn’t stirred, not even once. He sleeps like he’s dead, and his heart monitor beeps slowly, sometimes so slowly that Herc turns his head to look, to make sure it’s there, that his heart beat shows up. But he cries. He hasn’t stopped crying, tears leaking from beneath closed lids, soaking the pillow beneath his head. The doctors have Chuck hooked up to an IV drip to rehydrate him, and Herc thumbs away at a trail, just to watch it get replaced by a new line of tears.

 

\--

 

A week later, they call in Stacker Pentecost, Herc’s old friend and the new Marshal of the Anchorage Shatterdome.

 

Herc doesn’t tear his gaze away from Chuck, still unconscious, still crying. “They keep telling me _for the good of the world_ , Stacker. To save humanity. I gotta get back in the Jaegar, go fight the kaiju, so I can save people.” He stroked his son’s hand with his thumb, “I couldn’t save my own son from his uncle for 6 months.”

 

The other man pulled up a chair and looked over Chuck. “I’m not here to tell you to get back in a Jaegar. I’m here to watch over Chuck, while you go take a shower, get some food into you. We can’t have two Hansens down, Herc. When Chuck wakes up, he shouldn’t wake up to his father in a hospital bed because he went on for a week without food. Go take a shower, go eat, and go sleep. I’ll be here to watch over Chuck, if something happens.”

 

Herc doesn’t move, and Stacker doesn’t push. He does mention it every hour or so until Herc slides up, stooping to press a kiss onto Chuck’s forehead. “I’ll be right back, Chuck.” Herc said, running his thumb over Chuck’s knuckles. “I’ll come back strong enough for both of us.”

 

\--

 

Herc and Stacker fall into quiet conversation when Herc’s back with three hours of sleep. He’s noticeably clean shaven, but still looks like a skeleton. They talk about Stacker’s little girl. They talk about small things, and Herc never lets go of Chuck’s hand. “You ever think about getting him a dog?”

 

“A dog?”

 

“Be realistic, Herc. You’re a PPDC Ranger, and a Jaegar pilot. You can’t always be there for him. But a dog can.”

 

Herc stares at the hand he’s holding, and his son’s pale, sunken face. Two days after when Stacker claps Herc on the shoulders as he leaves, and Herc smuggles a mass of wrinkles into his son’s hospital room. The bulldog puppy whines and wriggles on the sheets. “Maybe you can work miracles.” Herc tells the dog, sitting back in the chair and wrapping his hands around Chuck’s small one.

 

\--

 

Fourteen days after Herc finds Chuck in a tub murky with his own blood, the bulldog puppy works a miracle. Herc is, as always watching Chuck, wiping tears away when he can, talking nonsense to Chuck and holding his hand. The bulldog, still unnamed, is waddling around at the foot of Chuck’s bed.

 

And Chuck’s eyes crack open. Herc stops talking, wondering if he’s imagining things, but Chuck whimpers, chokes on his breath like there’s a collar still restricting his breathing, and his eyes open wider. “Chuck.” Herc whispers, his eyes wide. “Chuck!” He shoots up from his seat, still gripping Chuck’s hand in his. Chuck coughs, wheezes, and his eyes dart around in panic. “Chuck, I’ve got you. It’s me. I’ve got you. Scott – he – he won’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you.”

 

Chuck’s fingers tremble in his, and when Herc thinks he should let Chuck go, his fingers grip Herc’s. “Dad.” Chuck’s voice is a scratchy rasp, throat dry. “D-dad, don’t let him hurt me! Please – don’t – don’t let him-” He starts gasping for breath, his free hand yanking the IV line to claw at his throat. Blood shoots up the line, and Herc eases the tube out before he holds Chuck’s hand. “Daddy, help me.” Chuck whispers, sobbing brokenly.

 

“I’m right here.” Herc squeezes his eyes shut, folding his body around his son as much as he can. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. He won’t hurt you, you hear me? Look at me.” Chuck sobs. “Look at me. I got you.”

 

Chuck grips at his shirt, sniffling. He calms down slowly, flinching violently with any noise, but Herc keeps a grip around him, keeping a thumb where the IV tube had been. “Gonna call the nurse back, and get this IV back in, yeah? I’m gonna be right here. You okay with me calling the nurse?”

 

Chuck nods, trembling against him, and Herc presses the call button nearby. A nurse and a doctor come rushing, but Herc glares. “Just the nurse.” The doctor slips out of sight, nodding, and Chuck stops shaking, and the nurse looks sympathetic as she comes in. “Chuck, it’s just the nurse.”

 

Herc removes the thumb from the vein, and the nurse clicks her tongue. “That’s gonna bruise, Chuck.” She smiles, rubbing the hole with alcohol. “It’s gonna sting a little when I put this back in.” Chuck doesn’t look at her, but he doesn’t pull back as she prepares another IV drip, sliding it into his arm. “How are you feeling?” The nurse takes the clipboard hanging by the foot of Chuck’s bed. “Dizzy? A little out of it?”

 

Chuck doesn’t answer, just digs deeper into Herc’s arms. The nurse sighs compassionately, and puts the clipboard back down. “You must be hungry. I’ll send up some soup for you, all right?” Chuck doesn’t answer, but instead, a whine speaks up. The nurse looks at the source of the whine, and then at Herc. “Ranger Hansen.” Herc stares back defiantly, but she crosses her arms across her chest. “That’s not sanitary.”

 

“Chuck doesn’t have anything to be infected. Plus, it’s not been anywhere. I gave it a bath.” Herc defends, and Chuck stirs, peeking curiously over his father’s arms to see what they’re talking about. Herc watches his son’s eyes widen and Chuck squirms out of the hug to reach for the bulldog puppy at the foot of the bed. Herc grins broadly and the nurse rolls her eyes as she leaves. “You like it? He’s yours.”

 

Chuck doesn’t answer, just brings the mass of wrinkles to his lap. “What’s his name?“

 

“Doesn’t have one. Thought you’d like to name it.” Herc watches his son. The pain and terror are gone from his face replaced instead by wonder and curiosity, and Herc thinks _this was a good idea_. He settles back onto his chair, holding Chuck’s hand tightly. “You like it?” He doesn’t say _birthday present_ because he remembers what Scott did on Chuck’s birthday. He stomps down the anger and the bile that rises from his throat. No time for that now.

 

“He’s mine?” Chuck repeats, rubbing the dog’s head. The dog wags its stubby tail at Chuck, and Chuck smiles. “I gotta think of a name.”

Herc rubs Chuck’s hand, covering the bandages on his wrists with his bigger hands. “Yeah, you do that.” There’s a knock on the door, and a nurse comes in with a plate of soup. She helps Herc set up the folding table.

 

“Cute dog.” She smiles at the dog on Chuck’s lap. “What’s its name?”

 

“Doesn’t have one.” Herc says instead, when he sees Chuck hesitate. Chuck’s shoulder relax a bit, and he toys with the spoon when she leaves. “I know you aren’t hungry, but you haven’t eaten properly in months.” Herc doesn’t know how far the damage goes, doesn’t know how much Chuck ate over the course of his abuse. What he does know is Chuck’s lost all the muscle he’s worked hard for, and that he’s nothing but skin and bone. “Gotta get better so you can be my co-pilot, eh?”

 

The words are out of his lips before he’s thought about it, but now that he’s said it, it makes sense. Chuck is at the top of his class, never faltered even through the months of torture. He and Chuck are going to be Drift compatible, he’s definite. Chuck looks up at him, his eyes wide. “Your co-pilot?” He whispers, his hand on the bulldog stilling.

 

“Yeah.” Herc smiles, and it’s the first time he remembers a tender moment between him and his son after Angela passed away. “How would you feel about that?” Chuck smiles at him, all the pain etched into his features slipping away. “You gotta get better, though. So eat up.”

 

Chuck picks his spoon up, hugs the bulldog to his stomach and eats. He only gets through about half the bowl, but Herc counts it a victory as he helps Chuck lie back down. “Don’t leave me, dad.” Chuck whispers, half asleep with the bulldog tucked against his side.

 

Herc holds his hand. His son had seemed all grown up, but his hand is still so small in Herc’s own. “Yeah. Never.” 


	3. raleigh becket

After the Breach is closed, Raleigh and Chuck do what Mako dubs the ‘Raleigh-Chuck Dance’. “Everyone in the Shatterdome and the world already ships Chaleigh,” Mako tells him.

 

Raleigh frowns and ducks to avoid her kick. “What the fuck is Chaleigh, and what the hell is shipping?”

 

Mako narrows her eyes at him as he lunges forward. “The point is, you two are dancing around each other so obviously that people can tell even from just your interviews.” She sighs, sidestepping him easily and hooking her arm around his neck. “You would do the world a great service once you publicly start dating.”

 

“We haven’t done the world enough service by saving it?” Raleigh asks, eyebrow quirked, and she laughs as she flips him into the mat. “He’s a kid, Mako. Plus, Herc literally starts growling everytime he finds us two together.”

 

“All you men are children.”

 

\--

 

Raleigh types in ‘Chaleigh ship’ into the search bar and clicks into the first link.

 

..Oh. Raleigh groans, scrolling through pictures and drawings and even fanfiction. People notice when his gaze lingers a little longer on Chuck than necessary, and when Chuck’s smile is shy instead of cocky like it normally is when directed toward him. The concept that he and Mako and Chuck and Herc are international celebrities hasn’t really hit him yet, as the three of them spend most of their time inside the Shatterdome, still, and most interviews are done in privacy. But Herc is constantly flying back and forth countries and doing PR work as the Marshal, and he swears he kisses about a million babies every time he goes outside.

 

He’s flattered, really, and it’s nice to know that people would support him and Chuck, if they ever became a thing. If they ever stop their dance, as Mako calls it. But Chuck, as much as he looks like he wants to be a thing, pulls back every time Raleigh pushes forward a little. It’s infuriating, but still endearing, because Chuck’s probably never had a relationship like that before.

 

Also, Herc’s lay-a-hand-on-my-son-and-I’ll-kill-you glare may be getting in the way a little. Raleigh is about 50% sure that Herc is actually going to kill him if he even holds Chuck’s hand.

 

\--

 

“Dinner?” Chuck says, looking interested, and Raleigh thinks _hey I’m doing something right_. “Where?”

 

“I thought we could go somewhere nice. There’s this really nice in downtown Hong Kong. It’s supposed to have months of reservations but apparently Newt says he can get us in whenever we want. I thought we could go. Since it’s your birthday soon-“

 

“We’re going for my birthday?” Chuck’s face shutters, and Raleigh stops.

 

“Yeah...? I mean, if you don’t want to go, we can just get cake and candles and just celebrate ourselves.” Raleigh tries to rack his brain for what he could have possibly done wrong in the span of a few sentences. “Chuck, what’s wrong?”

 

Chuck looks pale. “Nothing,” he says, his voice trembling minutely. “I just – no birthday. No candles.”

 

“No birthday?” Raleigh asks, but Chuck nods shortly and all but runs out of the room, leaving Raleigh to think _what the fuck just happened_.

 

\--

 

“I tried to take him out to dinner,” Raleigh tells Mako and Tendo in the LOCCENT room, grumbling over a mug of steaming coffee. “He freaked out on me. I have no idea what I did wrong.”

 

“Freaked out on you.” Tendo says, slowly. His expression is a little withdrawn, like he knows something but is keeping his mouth shut. “What did you say?”

 

“Nothing. Just said Newt can get us in at one of those nice restaurants, and that we should go, since it’s his birthday and all.” Raleigh narrows his eyes at Tendo. “You know something.”

 

Tendo winces. “I do. Chuck… Chuck doesn’t do birthdays. Not his, or anyone else’s. I hope you didn’t mention candles, or anything.”

 

Raleigh stares. “…What’s wrong with candles?”

 

“You did, didn’t you.” Tendo runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Listen, Raleigh. It’s really not my place to say. But if you’re going to get serious with Chuck, you need to sit down and talk to him about his past.”

 

\--

 

Raleigh wracks his brain for the next few days. Chuck is decidedly avoiding him, so he has a lot of time to think about what to do. The first thing he does is knock on Herc’s door. Herc looks at him with a raised eyebrow, sipping coffee. “Sir, I’ve come to ask your permission to date Chuck.”

 

Herc chokes on the coffee he’s drinking. He stares at Raleigh for a long time, gauging him, and finally stands. “I’m going to assume that you asking me that means you want to pursue a long-term, serious relationship with my son. Maybe permanent.”

 

Raleigh nods. “Tendo… told me that if I was going to get serious with Chuck, I should talk to him about his past.” He sees Herc’s shoulders stiffen. “I got him chocolate cake. Not for his birthday, and no candles. I made that mistake already. But.. cake. Is that okay?”

 

Herc’s face softens, and a raw emotion so tender it makes Raleigh flinch flits across Herc’s face before he turns around. “…Take good care of him, Becket.”

 

“I will, sir.”

 

\--

 

Chuck eyes him suspiciously as Raleigh coaxes him toward his room. “What are you planning now, huh?”

 

“Nothing sinister, I promise. Come on.” Raleigh sits him down on the bed, and then reaches into his mini-fridge to tug out the cake. He says quickly, “Not for your birthday. And no candles. I just wanted to share cake.” Chuck’s gaze is still frozen on the cake, so Raleigh sets it down between them, and takes Chuck’s hand. “Listen, Chuck. I like you. A lot. And I’d like to date you with the intent of our relationship lasting for a long, long time.” He strokes his thumb over Chuck’s knuckles. “I made a mistake with the birthday, and the candles. I don’t want to do that again. I talked to Herc. He didn’t tell me anything, but… if there’s something you think I should know, Chuck, please. Let me know. You can trust me with anything.”

 

Chuck stares into the cake, and Raleigh doesn’t say anything else. He cuts them pieces of cake, and starts digging into his piece, aware Chuck isn’t eating, and that there’s a heavy air weighing down on them. Suddenly, Chuck gets up, and Raleigh thinks he’s going to leave, and this is it, he’s really fucked up, Chuck tugs his jacket off. “You asked.” Chuck says, his eyes glued to the floor. “I’m trusting you.”

 

His voice is raw, filled with emotions Raleigh can’t even name, and Raleigh nods. Chuck hesitates again, and Raleigh touches his hand. “Take your time. Don’t push yourself.” Chuck closes his eyes. He sits, gently pushes the cake away, and turns his back to Raleigh.

 

After what it seems like an eternity, Chuck takes a deep breath and tugs his shirt off, showing Raleigh his back.

 

Raleigh wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but what he saw wasn’t on his list. Chuck’s shoulders are mottled with what are most definitely burn scars, all perfectly circular. Some of them are white, but others are dark, leaving a bizarre pattern on his shoulders. The burns cover the top of his shoulders almost entirely, and scatter down to his mid-back. Down the middle of Chuck’s back, there’s one where each vertebrae would be, leaving a trail of dark circles that disappear past Chuck’s jeans.

 

“I know – I know it’s hideous.” Chuck says his voice breaking. “But you said I could trust you. With anything. The doctors said they couldn’t do much to fix it.”

 

Raleigh’s pissed. Not at Chuck, never at Chuck, but at whoever did this to Chuck. He raises a hand to touch Chuck’s mangled shoulder, and Chuck flinches away like his touch burns. “You’re not hideous.” Raleigh whispers, wrapping his arms around Chuck and pulling him into a hug. “You could never be.”

 

Chuck lets out a broken sob, sinking downward, and Raleigh eases him onto the bed. He lets Chuck cry, doesn’t prod for more, just holds Chuck as best as he can. “There’s – there’s more.” Chuck says, when he’s calmed down enough. Raleigh nods, and waits for Chuck to ease his jeans off. He expects more cigarette burns, but instead now he’s faced with a scar that reads _BROKEN HANSEN_ , clear on the inside of Chuck’s thigh. A surge of anger shoves back up to Raleigh and he sees red, but he takes in a shuddering breath to calm himself.

 

He holds Chuck tighter against him, holds him until the worst of the tremors pass away. He gets up, then to put the cake away so it doesn’t melt. He turns the lights off, and Chuck whimpers, “K-keep your clothes on?”

 

Raleigh’s heart sinks. “Yeah. I’m just gonna change into sweatpants, all right? Do you want a pair?” He doesn’t want to even think about _why_ , because he feels like he already knows. Chuck wants one, so he tosses a loose pair at him and pulls on another pair for himself. He strips down to his wifebeater, slides onto the bed and pulls Chuck’s head onto his arm, pulling the sheets around them.

 

Chuck doesn’t sleep, and neither does Raleigh, but they also don’t talk in the dark. Raleigh waits, until Chuck finally whispers, “It was my uncle.”

 

Raleigh’s heart stops beating for a moment. “Your.. uncle?”

 

Chuck flinches. “Scott Hansen. My dad’s little brother. He… God, I was so stupid back then. I thought everything he was telling me was true, and… The first night he.. The first time that he..” Chuck starts shaking again.

 

Raleigh folds his arm so he tugs Chuck to him. “He raped you.” He says, trembling with anger. Chuck nods against his chest, and Raleigh feels tears where they soak through the fabric.

 

“He told me that dad wouldn’t care, that he wouldn’t believe me. I don’t know why I believed him back then. I was – I was 14. I didn’t know.”

 

 _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Raleigh thinks, clutching Chuck tighter to his chest. He doesn’t want to think about the pain Chuck went through, first raped by his own uncle, then told his father wouldn’t care. It suddenly explains everything, from Mako’s remembering Chuck had suddenly changed, to Herc’s fierce protectiveness of his son. And then Raleigh’s heart lurches when he remembers Chuck saying _first night_ , _first time_. “He… did this to you multiple times?”

 

“Almost every day for six months. He’d… bring in others. I found out later he took money from them. Gave me these burns.” Chuck laughs, his voice watery with tears. “Whipped me, flogged me, a bunch of things. He told me I was only worth anything as a whore. One day he.. blindfolded me. Brought some guy in who sounded exactly like my old man, and I just…” Chuck fades off as Raleigh thinks _Jesus fucking Christ_ for the millionth time. Chuck concludes, shakily. “It wasn’t him. But for some time I thought it was. Thought my… thought he… I mean. My uncle did, right? Didn’t seem too far off my dad would, too.”

 

Raleigh feels like someone’s torn his heart out of his chest and shoved it through a shredder. He tugs Chuck even closer against him, pressing his face into Chuck’s shoulders. “He used to keep a collar on me, and I couldn’t… breathe. Had bruises that would never fade, so I kept wearing turtlenecks. If you… if you look close enough, I still have the scars from where the collar cut into my skin. Same with my wrists and ankles. Knees, too.”

 

Chuck takes in a shaky breath. “I don’t… remember all of it. Most of it is a blank. The doctors said it was normal. I don’t remember the last day, but my dad saw all of my uncle’s memories when they Drifted, and I saw it when I Drifted with my old man later. He cut the words into my peg, pulled the collar tight enough I couldn’t breathe, and dumped me into a tub of cold water so the blood wouldn’t clot. It was their first day Drifting, my old man and my uncle. My dad tried to keep the memory down when we Drifted, but I saw it. He found me almost dead in a tub of my own blood.”

 

Raleigh doesn’t know how to react. He bursts up, and Chuck sits up, looking wrecked. “Don’t go anywhere.” Raleigh says. “I just…  I just need to punch something. I’ll be back in two minutes.” He grips Chuck’s chin. “Don’t go _anywhere_.”

Chuck nods, curling up on the bed, and Raleigh pulls the sheets over him, presses a shaky kiss onto the top of his head before yanking his door open and running out. Herc is there, with Tendo, and they say nothing as he slams his fist into the metal walls, denting it. He goes at it until a firm hand stops him. “You’re gonna shatter the bones in your hand, mate,” Herc says, looking grim.

 

“He burned 15 candles on Chuck’s body on his 15th birthday.” Tendo explains quietly. “That’s why Chuck doesn’t do birthdays or candles.”

 

Raleigh swerves to throw the dented wall a last punch, blood dripping from his knuckles, and wrenches his door back open. Chuck is sitting up, thumbing a first aid kit that he probably grabbed when he heard Raleigh outside. The lights are on, and Raleigh sits next to Chuck. “Chuck.” He says, aware his voice is ragged. “I love you. And nothing, _nothing_ , is going to change that.”

 

Chuck is silent as he carefully wraps Raleigh’s split knuckles. Raleigh buries his head in Chuck’s shoulders, and Chuck stiffens. The skin’s marred, and Raleigh can feel every bump with his fingers. It must have hurt, and Raleigh can’t imagine how the 14 year old dealt with the agony of burning flesh under cruel fingers. He kisses each scar, and Chuck trembles under his lips. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.” Chuck’s eyes are shut. “I trust you, and that’s what scares me.” The confession wrenches Raleigh’s chest, and Raleigh wraps his arms around Chuck’s waist to push him downward onto the bed. Chuck freezes, but when Raleigh mouths his shoulders, he trembles as he sinks into the bed. “We’re moving fast.” Chuck tries to joke, but the tremor beneath Raleigh’s hands aren’t fake. “We haven’t even starting dating, mate.”

Raleigh stops, and sits back up. “We’ve been dating for months.” He corrects, “Just didn’t verbalize it. But you tell me to stop, and I stop.”

 

Chuck snorts, in an attempt at bravado. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Raleigh doesn’t lean back down. “I’m serious, Chuck. You tell me to stop, and I’ll stop. If you don’t think you’ll enjoy this, I’m going to stop now.”

 

Chuck looks up at him, his gaze shaking, assessing Raleigh. Raleigh smiles down at Chuck until Chuck smiles back. “I know. I don’t want you to stop.”

 

Raleigh shifts his weight, letting Chuck’s legs fall around him, and bends down. “If anything gets too much, stop me.” Chuck nods against his shoulder, hands gripping on Raleigh’s sides. Everything Chuck does is hesitant, even when he’s trying to make jokes and be the usual cocky Chuck Hansen. Raleigh wants to kill the man who changed Chuck, but that’s for later. “You’re perfect.” Raleigh says, kissing the burn scars. “Perfect.”

 

Raleigh is careful with everything he does. Even taking their clothes off makes Chuck shiver, so Raleigh shuts the lights off and throws the blanket around them. The dark makes Chuck relax more, and Raleigh carefully makes his way down Chuck’s body, thumbing pebbled nipples before he takes one into his mouth. Chuck’s breath hitches, and Raleigh sits up. “Bad?”

 

Chuck’s hands tangle in his hair. “It’s good,” he manages, and Raleigh smiles before resuming his suckling. He rolls the mound of flesh gently between his teeth and Chuck’s hands tighten in Raleigh’s hair when he tugs lightly. Raleigh cautiously takes one of his hands up and rolls the other in his fingers, pinching lightly. Chuck doesn’t pull back, just bucks into him, so Raleigh grins and lets his hand wander down to Chuck’s cock.

 

But when he does, Chuck yanks backward, his arm lashing out. Raleigh doesn’t block it – he ducks to avoid it, and slowly backs up, his hands up. They’re both siting up, Chuck’s entire body coiled and tense. “Chuck, it’s me.” Raleigh says, unmoving. “It’s just me.” Chuck stares at him, pupils blown wide, panting badly. “Chuck, it’s Raleigh.”

 

Chuck’s tense body suddenly loosens and Raleigh rushes forward so Chuck doesn’t hit his head on the wall or the bed. “I can’t.” Chuck whispers. “I – I just-“

 

“Yeah, it’s all right.” Raleigh manages to reach over to yank his closet open to pull out the fresh, spare sheets. He wraps Chuck in it, who’s shivering, and eases him down. “I pushed it too fast, too far.”

 

“I’ll be okay, in a minute. Just a minute.” Chuck says, curling in on himself.

 

“No way.” Raleigh rubs Chuck’s cheek. “We’re done for today. Don’t push yourself. You just get some sleep, and we’ll eat some cake when you’re up, yeah?” Chuck’s inward struggle is obvious, but he relents when Raleigh runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it lightly before getting up to dress himself.

 

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not. Just thought you’d like it better if I had clothes on when I’m in bed with you.”

 

Chuck doesn’t say anything, so Raleigh looks back, and his eyes have adjusted enough to the dark to see Chuck’s smile. “Thanks.”

 

It’s sincere, heartfelt, and Raleigh just bends down to brush his lips on Chuck’s.

 

\--

 

Chuck doesn’t get to eat cake, because he gets violently sick when he wakes up. He ends up in the medbay, with an IV drip, and Herc looks like he wants to blame Raleigh for it. Raleigh’s seriously scared for his safety until Tendo goes, “Stop scaring him, Herc. You know it wasn’t Rals.”

 

Herc growls, “I know,” which makes Raleigh a little more relaxed, but not really.

 

So Raleigh says, “I’m going to take care of him, sir.”

 

Herc’s face softens a bit, and he holds his son’s hand. The move looks achingly familiar, and Raleigh has no doubt Herc’s seen his son in the hospital bed for too long for all the wrong reasons. “I know.”

 

\--

 

Chuck says, “Your cake was rotten.”

 

“That might work, except I ate all of it and you ate none.” Raleigh rolls his eyes. Chuck is sitting on his bed, his fever thankfully broken after two days. Raleigh pulls a new cake out of his fridge, and Chuck stares. “This time, you’re gonna eat some.”

 

Chuck stares, and Raleigh wonders if this is no-zone as well, except Chuck suddenly bursts out laughing. “You got like a cake fetish or something?”

 

Raleigh would be hurt, except Chuck’s laughing so hard he’s tearing up, and he can’t help but grin. “I just want you to enjoy some cake, all right?” He grumps, shoves Chuck to the inside of the bed.

 

Chuck grabs him and pulls him into a kiss. “I know.” Chuck says, when they part, his eyes twinkling with tears from his laughter. “And I can’t believe you care so much.”

 

Raleigh squeezes Chuck’s hands. “I’m going to keep doing it, until you can believe it.” He grins. “Cake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this deserves a happy!smut epilogue.....


End file.
